Lament of Jazz
by Genesis Grey
Summary: Set after the Movie. Jazz reflects on his life, the death of Optimus Prime, and Rodimus' ascension to power. An explanation as to how he survived the movie, but was rarely seen in G2.


Authors Notes: My response to why Jazz survived the Movie, yet was rarely seen in the third season. Feedback is very much appreciated. :) 

::Lament of Jazz :: 

"Rodimus Prime." 

The name felt like acid in his mouth as he walked through the torn, ruined streets that had once been an Autobot stronghold and was now little more than a pile of scrap metal. Long ago it had been known by many names: the Shining City, the Domed City, the Golden City, but most importantly as Iacon. It had been the main staging ground in the glorious, but failed, search for energon that had landed Autobots and Decepticons on Earth. Now it was nothing but a husk, not even the neutrals hid within the crumbling walls anymore. 

Jazz, usually the happy-go-lucky moral officer of the Autobots, was alone in his misery as he continued across the dilapidated bridge that stretched over a large trench, from the main city streets to the shattered dome. Amazingly, it didn't crumble under him, though he almost wished it would. 

Rodimus Prime, the newly elevated leader of the Autobots had called a meeting of all the surviving commanders to be held later this evening. The former Hot Rod had placed a hand upon Jazz's shoulder and asked that he be there, that he was the last of Optimus' lieutenants and should be there to speak for the old guard. He'd given the new leader a staunch nod of assent and stormed from the room, not caring if it seemed rude and uncharacteristic. 

Old guard indeed. 

Jazz needed time to be alone, to think. After his rescue from Unicron he had been debriefed about the battle at Autobot City on Earth. The death of Optimus Prime. The true horror of Unicron's assault on the planet. The losses. The death. The destruction. And finally about the ascension of Hot Rod to Optimus Prime's vacated position, keeper of the Matrix, leader of the Autobots. Rodimus Prime. 

In those moments Jazz felt his very existence being smashed with every word Ultra Magnus spoke. Everyone he'd ever cared about was dead. Ironhide. Prowl. Wheeljack. Ratchet. Windcharger. Brawn. Too many others. But most painfully, Optimus Prime. 

His leader. His confidante. His friend. 

Killed at the hand of Megatron because Hot Rod had interfered. Maybe Optimus would have died from injuries in any case, or so Jazz's logic circuits argued, but that didn't stop his anger at the young Autobot. A battle between leaders of opposing sides was sacred, as it had been ever since the time of the first Autobot and Decepticon leaders. There were supposed to be sentries to assure that no one else got involved and things like this didn't happen. But no one cared about their ancient cultural heritage anymore, it was all about winning. In a strange way the passing of Optimus and Megatron marked the death of the true Transformer way of life. 

He shook his head as he pushed open a one of Iacon's rusting doors. It fell of its weak hinges and crashed to the floor as he carefully walked farther into the darkened building. He couldn't dwell on Optimus' death any more or he would feel the need to take it out on someone. Mostly likely Rodimus. 

Jazz let out a sound of exhaustion that humans would have called a sigh as he moved through the shadowed hallway of the former Shining City, turning his vision to infrared so he wouldn't stumble. Whether he liked it or not Hot Rod… no, Rodimus Prime was now the leader of the Autobots. He pushed that out of his mind as he continued down the halls. 

The best times of his life had been spent here in Iacon, he marveled as he passed through the halls, some of the worst as well. When he'd first come to the Golden City it was in pieces. He had been a lieutenant under Sentinel Prime and had the misfortune of getting in the path of a Decepticon cluster bomb to protect his leader. 

In the repair bay he had met a Transformer that would change his life. Optimus Prime. Of course his name was Orion Pax back then, and he was little more than a staff sergeant hurt in the explosion of a weapons depot. They had talked and laughed. Few knew that Optimus had a wonderful sense of humor. 

A year or so later Optimus and his near constant companion Ironhide, along with Kup and few others, were assigned to Jazz's new unit. Ironic that his leader had once been his underling. 

Those had been good times, despite the constant fighting. He could still remember the stories Optimus would tell of his home during down time, always shining, always cheerful, as if it still existed anywhere but his mind. His future leader would paint beautiful pictures with his words, occasionally telling about the beautiful femme that was waiting for him somewhere; and Jazz would laugh, inserting the occasional off-color comment to embarrass the shy Autobot. 

Jazz had envied Optimus back then, and he'd told his friend as much. He'd never had a home, been created and raised in the barracks. The Ark had been the closest thing he'd ever had to a home. 

The ground crumbled underneath him as he flipped back with lightening quick reflexes, landing in a crouched position and watching half the corridor crumble. The place was rusting to bits, just like the rest of the planet. Rising to his feet he changed directions and pushed open another door, surprised when it lead to an enormous empty chamber. There were three levels of catwalks in various states of disrepair along the walls of the round room and black scorch marks scared the floor, illuminated by the inconsistent starlight that poured in from the shattered dome above. 

This was where the whole Earth saga had started, where the Ark had been built and launched. He could still remember the day they lifted off. Everyone had been optimistic about their chances of success, with the exception of the pessimistic Ironhide and logic driven Prowl. He could still remember sitting at the helm, nervous at the though of leaving his planet, as Optimus came over and patted him on the shoulders and made some inspirational comment. Prime had always been good at that. 

Carefully walking across the floor of the room Jazz thought of the mission. Its intent had been to gather energon to help power a dying Cybertron, from a military standpoint it had been a spectacular failure on several different levels. Most catastrophic being that for a little over four million years Optimus Prime and his command staff had been out of action, presumed deactivated and the Matrix lost. Not to mention, when they at last did make contact with Cybertron again, they had scarce amounts of energon to offer and were duty bound to protect Earth from the Decepticon menace they had unleashed. 

Optimus had been honorable like that. 

On a personal level it had been far less of a failure. Jazz really had thought of the Ark as a home and it nearly killed him when it was abandoned. It had been a new experience to sit down and talk to his fellow Autobot without having to constantly worry about a flash grenade appearing in the trench with them. True, they still had to worry about Decepticons and protect the humans, but it wasn't nonstop the way the war was waged on Cybertron. 

But then communication with Cybertron had been restored and it had become possible to shuttle back and forth. It was back to war as usual. The Autobots did need their supreme commander after all, and Jazz wasn't about to let Optimus go alone. 

"I shouldn't have let him go without me," he said, silently cursing himself as he walked across the floor of the chamber. "I should have gone to Earth with him." But he knew that wasn't possible. He'd been told to say behind on the moonbase to coordinate the remaining Autobots, so they wouldn't put their eggs all in one basket, as the Earth saying went. Optimus never considered the possibility of the Transformer's equivalent of a devil showing up and thrashing the planet at the same time. But it had happened. Optimus had been killed and so had the vast majority of his command staff, and now Hot Rod was the Autobot leader. 

"Rodimus Prime," he said. The name haunted him to his core, but he refused to voice his apprehension to anyone else. It would sound like petty jealousy if he did, that Hot Rod, not him, had been chosen by the Matrix to lead the Autobots. 

It was true he'd never risen through the ranks like some great star, but there was a simple reason for that. He hadn't wanted to. Optimus had tried to promote him once, but he declined, saying Prowl was better for the job. He liked to support his leaders and be their dependable right hand, to coordinate strikes and troops and lead the soldiers into battle. That was the life he had chosen and Optimus had understood that, even envied him it. Jazz had no doubts his leader would have done the same, had the Matrix not selected him to lead. 

Leadership was certainly not an easy task and as Jazz wandered from the large chamber that had once held his hopes and dreams, he wondered if Rodimus Prime was up to the challenge. 

Already he had made a few public relation mistakes in handling the aftermath of the attack on earth and Unicron. Jazz stepped through another doorway and he thought of all the damage his race had suffered recently and wondered. 

How many Autobots had died in the past few days? How many neutrals? Hell, how many Decepticons? And Rodimus was proclaiming this to be some kind of victory? It was an abomination, like that death grin face staring down at them from where the moons had once been. Optimus would not have called it a victory, but a tragedy with both penalties and advantages. 

Yes, now the Autobots had control of their planet once more, but it was a fluke. Simple dumb luck. The Decepticons had been the dominant force on Cybertron and as much as Jazz hated to admit it, they had been no where close to being able to throw off the oppression of the Megatron's forces. But then Unicron had appeared and wiped out a good half of the planet's population. Decepticons died in masses fighting for their home. The Autobots were lucky they hadn't had control of the planet or they would have been virtually obliterated. 

And what was the first thing Rodimus did as leader. Did he try to rebuild Cybertron? Attempt an uneasy alliance with the remaining Decepticons? No. He focused on rebuilding Autobot City on Earth. He herded the Decepticons off the planet while they were unable to defend themselves and abandoned them on Charr, the lifeless world, where they would likely die as well. 

Jazz fully admitted that he hated the Decepticons more than anything else in the universe, but over the eons he had come to respect the war-faring faction of his own race. They didn't deserve to be treated like this, like trash. That was how the Decepticons would treat them if the situation were reversed, but Autobots were supposed to be something better, something nobler. Or so he had always believed. And so had Optimus, almost to a fault. 

But Rodimus didn't. Or couldn't. Jazz saw how the poor kid was being played like a drone by those he had respected as Hot Rod. They didn't even realize they were doing it either. To Kup, Springer, and Ultra Magnus, they were simply giving the new leader some advise, and if he followed it to the letter every time, well, he must have agreed their ideas were good. 

Jazz shook his head as he walked away from Iacon, feeling a painful bit of regret leaving it behind as he transformed and drove back toward Neo-Praxus. He felt sorry for Hod Rod. He really did. Even if he was still angry with him for causing Optimus' death and at less rational moments wanted nothing more than to throttle the punk. At least Optimus had been taken under Sentinel Prime's wing and trained for leadership in some way. 

Sure, the Hot Rod would mature with time and grow into the position; perhaps Rodimus Prime would be the greatest leader the Autobots had ever known. But that wasn't now and in this uncertain time the Autobots needed a strong leader. Or at least one that knew his own mind and wasn't trying to please others. They needed Optimus Prime. He did anyway. 

As he reached one of the few buildings on Cybertron still standing he transformed and walked inside. The Dinobots were providing security for the place, which meant Slag and Snarl were punching each other, Sludge watched, and Grimlock and Swoop did all the work. They didn't try to stop him as he walked into the room Rodimus was using for an office. 

Entering he found that Springer, Kup, Arcee, and Ultra Magnus were already there. No real surprise. Rodimus was standing behind a large desk and looking nervous as he spoke to Kup. Jazz wanted to be optimistic and cheerful, as he was known to be, and offer congratulations and swear allegiance to the new leader. But as soon as he saw the former Hot Rod he felt a dark anger bubbling through his systems as the scenarios of Optimus' death played through his head. 

He couldn't do this. Not now, maybe not ever. He couldn't serve the Transformer that had, in his mind, caused the death of his friend and leader. Maybe when Rodimus matured from being a puppet and became his own mechanism he would be able to come back, but for now he needed to be alone with his memories. They were all he had after all. 

Jazz took a step toward the desk as Rodimus and Kup continued to talk. He needed to heal if he was ever going to be his happy-go-lucky self again. They didn't need him anyway, the Decepticon threat was nil, even if he still didn't agree with what had been done. And if they, for whatever reason, needed him it wasn't as if he was going to disappear. He was just gonna take his music and do a bit of traveling. Spread the sounds of Earth around to the neutrals and see what he could do to help them rebuild. Maybe see if he could find Elita-1 and the other femmes. If they were still alive they deserved to know what had happened to their loved ones. 

Finally Rodimus over at him and smiled. Jazz forced himself to smile back, though sadly. It wasn't really the kid's fault and he felt a little guilty for doing this to the young leader, but it would be worse if he didn't. Placing a hand on the desk he looked into Rodimus' blue optics as he spoke the words he never thought he'd say. Optimus would be disappointed. 

"I respectfully wish to resign my commission…" 


End file.
